


A kiss with a fist is better than none

by Miyukitty



Series: SASOikawa 2016 [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bad Flirting, Blood, Bloody Kisses, Boys Kissing, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Iwaizumi Hajime Swears, M/M, Minor Violence, Nosebleed, One Shot, SASO 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 05:06:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7154777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miyukitty/pseuds/Miyukitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the prompt: <i>Remember when Iwaizumi misjudged a throw at Oikawa and gave him a bloody nose?</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	A kiss with a fist is better than none

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Icie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icie/gifts).



> Written for the SASO2016 BR1 prompt: _Remember when Iwaizumi misjudged a throw at Oikawa and gave him a bloody nose?_
> 
> My first SASO fill of the season, but I waited to upload it for Iwa-chan's birthday. ( ๑ ゝڡ ❛ ๑ ) ♥ Light bloodplay ~~bc that is apparently fun to write even when they're not ghouls~~?? Gross bloody smooches for you~  I've already written more iwaoi this round than I did all of 2015 haha

  

 

Oikawa waved over his shoulder to the pair of girls gossiping about him by the schoolgate. They squealed as they hid their embarrassed faces behind their hands, and Oikawa turned back to Iwaizumi with a satisfied grin.

  
  
"And _that's_ how-"

  
  
"That face pisses me off," Iwaizumi cut him off gruffly.

  
  
Oikawa huffed, and turned his nose up in feigned offense.

 

They walked on down the sidewalk, schoolbags slung casually over their shoulders, bumping into each other every time Oikawa glanced up at the sunset and stopped watching where he was going. There was no practice that afternoon, so there was still some daylight illuminating their route home, and Iwaizumi considered stopping at the convenience mart to grab snacks for their study session.

  
  
"You could learn a lot from me about handling social situations, you know, Iwa-chan. Someone with your looks could never rely on natural charisma to make his way in this world," Oikawa was saying, but Iwaizumi just grunted, tuning out his boyfriend's narcissistic blathering.

 

He was checking his pockets for loose change – did he have enough for milk bread? He just wanted a coffee for himself, as he could feel the exhaustion of cram week building pressure behind his eyes, and maybe caffeine would make tonight's calculus easier to comprehend.

  
  
"Iwa-chaaaan, you're not even listening," Oikawa whined. The taller boy leaned in close, fluttering his impossibly long eyelashes so close to Iwaizumi's face he swore he could feel them brush against his skin.

  
  
The wing spiker swatted at him on impulse, and Oikawa gracefully dodged his open palm, a bright laugh spilling from his lips.

  
  
"Too slow, Iwa-chan! As if you'd dare mess up this pretty face of mine," Oikawa flirted, sticking out his tongue.

  
  
Iwaizumi scowled. Oikawa really did have a pretty face, unfairly so (especially when the setting sun lit up his wavy chestnut hair with auburn highlights, and made his soulful brown eyes turn soft and inviting). But it had never once stopped Iwaizumi from wanting to smack him for being an idiot. Somebody had to do it.

 

If anything, that pretty face – coupled with Oikawa's total awareness of how it affected him – just pissed him off all the more.

  
  
"Yeah, yeah, we'll see how pretty your smile is after you swallow a few of those teeth," Iwaizumi chuckled darkly.

  
  
Oikawa whooped and skipped backwards a step as Iwaizumi threw a playful right hook. His knuckles collided unexpectedly with something-

 

-Something that gave way with a startled yelp and a wet crunch. Iwaizumi's bag slipped from his numb fingers and hit the sidewalk.

 

Oikawa's hands clapped to his face, eyes huge and watery, blinking rapidly to stem the tears. Sunset-red dripped between the setter's fingers and spattered the pavement. Iwaizumi stared in horror, transfixed as Oikawa crumpled to his knees.

  
  
"Shit," Iwaizumi blurted. "I mean-! Shit! I'm so sorry, Tooru, I thought you’d dodge, you know I didn't mean to—"

  
  
"Iwa-chan, you _brute!_ " Oikawa wailed, muffled through his fingers. "I dink you broke my dose! How are dose arms so _strong_ , you gorilla, ah…!"

  
  
The captain's voice trailed into a whimper as Iwaizumi knelt in front of him, gently prising his hands apart.

 

Oikawa's fair skin was shock-pale, a darkening bruise blossoming purple and blue from where the punch struck him. It looked painful. Gouts of dark blood painted his lips and teeth red, and made a mess of his school clothes. His stained hands were trembling, just slightly, as he lowered them, trusting, to his sides.

 

He gripped Oikawa's chin and tipped it back, pointing his face skyward. Oikawa moved obediently as he was directed, snuffling wetly and looking anywhere but at Iwaizumi.

 

It was hardly the first time he'd seen Oikawa bleed – and definitely not the first time it was _his fault_ , either – but it was always different when they were off the court, without the adrenaline driving them to keep fighting at any cost.

  
Iwaizumi used his free hand to rummage through his bag and locate his gym shirt. He gently staunched the nosebleed's flow with the fabric, hushing him under his breath, guiding him to pinch the bridge of his nose and press down. 

 

As they both quietly waited, crouched on the pavement, Iwaizumi stroked his fingers through Oikawa's soft hair. Oikawa averted his face to spit a mouthful on the sidewalk, lips twisted in a distasteful grimace. 

 

Oikawa was fragile when he let his guard down (just as he used to be as a kid, before he'd learned to build defenses at all).

  
  
"It’s not broken," Iwaizumi murmured. "Just bruised. I'm really sorry."

  
  
Oikawa relaxed back into his touch, blinking away the dampness that made his long eyelashes stick in clumps. The startled wild animal look in his eyes slowly began to fade. He looked uncomfortably vulnerable, lower lip quivering, but he didn't say anything as he stubbornly watched the sun sink below the horizon.

  
  
After a while, Iwaizumi tentatively removed the soiled shirt, and was relieved to find the bleeding had stopped. Good.

 

Without further hesitation, he pulled Oikawa in by the shoulders, and pressed their lips together. Iwaizumi knew he needed reassurance, and he wasn't good enough with his words, so this would have to do.

 

Oikawa hummed in surprise, but quickly melted into the forceful kiss, one hand twisting in his boyfriend's shirt collar to hold him close. A soft gasp caught in his throat as Iwaizumi deepened the kiss, teeth scraping his lower lip, tongue lapping eagerly into the heat of his mouth.

  
  
When Iwaizumi pulled back from the kiss, he moved slowly, gaze dark and searching. 

  
  
"Iwa-chan," Oikawa exhaled shakily.

 

There was a smear of red on Iwaizumi's parted lips until his tongue darted to lick it off.

 

Oikawa looked dazed, one hand still clinging absently to his boyfriend's shirt. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you like my pretty face when it's covered in blood. What a violent brute you are," he whispered, a slow smile curving wickedly along his countenance.

  
  
Iwaizumi coughed to disguise his laugh, and jammed the dirty gym clothes back into his bag. (It _really_ wasn't fair how he could make anything look good, because he wasn't wrong.) He offered a hand to help Oikawa stand, a teasing grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

  
  
"Are you seriously trying to hit on me right now, Shittykawa? You're a mess, we need to get you cleaned up at my house. You look super gross."

  
  
"Ooh, don't run away from your feelings, Ha-ji-me," Oikawa sang, hurrying to his feet. "You think I'm totally sexy right now, don't you? How scandalous! I can't wait to tell Makki and Mattsun about this."

  
  
"Are you trying to make fun of me or seduce me, idiot?" Iwaizumi laughed. 

  
  
"Smooch me again, while I'm still concussed by your caveman fists," Oikawa crooned, waggling his eyebrows. He sniffled loudly, voice congested by his stuffy nose.

  
  
"Oh god, you're being serious," Iwaizumi groaned. He heaved a long-suffering sigh, gazing dramatically at the evening skyline. "This is gonna be a long study session."

 

He felt an uncomfortable twinge of guilt in his gut when he caught Oikawa touching his swollen face and wincing; he'd make sure to get a cold washcloth and some acetaminophen from the bathroom as soon as they got home. He still couldn't believe he'd screwed up this badly, but at least Oikawa seemed willing to accept that it was all an accident.

 

(Still, if the bruising was bad tomorrow, Iwaizumi knew he'd never hear the end of it from Hanamaki and Matsukawa, not to mention Oikawa himself.)

  
  
Oikawa aimed an impatient kick at his shins.

 

Iwaizumi dodged with practiced ease, then stomped on his foot in retaliation. Then, before he could protest, he took Oikawa's hand in his, lacing their fingers together and giving a squeeze.

  
  
Oikawa beamed at him, through a puffy face and watery eyes, and squeezed back.


End file.
